


The Violinist

by Trismagister



Category: Great Pretender (Anime)
Genre: Abby deserves more love, Angst, Backstory, Character Death In Dream, Character Study, Childhood Trauma, Coffee, Coffee Shops, Confessions, Cynthia is a pianist, Edamura is a violinist, Edamura owns a coffee shop, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heist, Kidnapping, Kudo deserves more love, Kudo is a violinist, Language Barrier, Laurent acts like a stalker sometimes, Laurent is a cellist, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Language, Musical References, Musicians, Orchestra, Past Violence, Phone Calls & Telephones, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Case 4, Post-Season 2, Robbery, Romance, Sentimental, Slow Burn, Team Confidence is musically skilled, Teen Romance, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28631547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trismagister/pseuds/Trismagister
Summary: Team Confidence infiltrates an operahouse in Vienna with plans involving the theft of the world's most expensive violin. The lights dim. The music starts. Drama occurs as bittersweet memories begin to reemerge in the rehearsal room. WIP
Relationships: Cynthia Moore/Laurent Thierry, Edamura Makoto & Abigail Jones, Edamura Makoto/Abigail Jones, Kudo & Original Character(s), Laurent Thierry & Original Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	1. A Bitter Roast

**Author's Note:**

> Every chapter has its own BGM. I recommend playing each one as you read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7UIHl0oJEpg

Edamura Makoto was an idiot, plain and simple.

After getting thrown into prison, nearly disemboweled by an emotionally unstable Abby, and becoming an insider in the underground child trafficking business, you'd expect for the man to refuse a part in anymore of the blond bastard's crazy schemes.

At least he got something out of it. At the end of the last con, Laurent went through with his word and got him a cozy coffee lounge in scenic Okinawa. The place itself was small and the colours were a bit too avant-garde for Edamura's tastes. On the other hand, the location was unparalleled, and the position of the lounge maximized the pristine, foamy grandness of the oceanside.

Although his life outside the con was uneventful, the young man could appreciate how laid-back it was. There were no schemes, no mafia families, no looking over your shoulder or changing your name after every job. Compared to his time as a con-artist, the simple life of a barista was easily more bearable. Meager pay aside, serving coffee and chatting up with guests was very fulfilling for him in a therapeutic sense.

Strangely, it didn't take long for his business to experience a surge in popularity. After signing a contract involving the exclusive import of fresh coffee grounds from Central Europe, critics and locals alike began to praise his near coffee game, with many describing it as world-class. From rich espresso to the weakest of lattes, the result of Edamura's brews were utterly sublime to patrons of all ages. He even got his name published in the honourable mentions section in several coffee magazines around the globe. Even better, some of his wealthier patrons invested into his humble business and incentivized his plans for expansion. With some luck, he'd have a brand-new franchise on his hands in a couple years time.

It wasn't all just business though. Being a barista opened up a lot of doors as well: making friends was commonplace, and any gifts that happened to end up in his hands were readily accepted. Many of his neighbours would keep their doors open to Edamura as thanks for the unpaid catering favors he took. He was even sweet on some of the local ladies who visited his lounge regularly. While lacking in close friends, Edamura had an untarnished rep and good local connections.

 _This was it_ , he thought. This was a line of work where he could meet new people, refine his craft, rake in a decent living, and still enjoy eight hours of sleep on a daily basis without risking life and limb. He was loved and respected. His work was loved and respected. Apart from his recipes and the key to the cash register, there was nothing he needed to hide from the world.

Indeed, it seemed that the life of a humble barista was his calling. Indeed, Edamura was fully content with this life. He would never allow that blond bastard to rope him into another multi-million dollar scheme.

Besides, his lack of practice in the con business would probably lead to him ending up behind bars or bleeding out in a backalley if things went wrong again. Edamura Makoto was complacent with what he had. Work was serene, and life was good.

But that would not do. Alas, the Frenchman was persistent. Edamura's phone record soon became riddled with missed calls and coy voicemails, with the number increasing by each passing day. And as with the days gone by, Edamura's irritation and overall desire to chunk it out the apartment window increased.

"Not interested." "Come on, Edamame! We make a great team together. Besides, what would you do without me? We both know that you can't resist." Edamura gritted his teeth. "Continue living an honest life running a coffee lounge, what else? Besides, you paid for it." Laurent chuckled, his fingers dancing on the rim of his phone. "Yes, I paid for it. I paid for all of it with the money _we_ made from the last con. Face it, Edamame. We're getting back in action soon. If you want to be a good boy, you're going show up."

Edamura's hand began to clench in frustration, before relaxing. "Why don't you make me?" The Frenchment clicked his tongue in chastisement. "Stubborn boy. We'll be in touch. Unfortunately, we don't have much of a choice this time around. Take care, _darling._ "

The only thing stopping him from field-testing the aerodynamic capabilities of his smartphone was the fact that his insurance provider wouldn't cover the window damages.

In the coming months, calls turned into emails, and emails eventually turned into written letters. "Even the postage is from Avignon." Edamura sighed as he flipped through the contents of his P.O. box. "Bastard."

* * *

After closing times, Edamura followed a simple evening ritual: drive home, check the news, shower, unwind, and then retire to bed.

"It feels bit warmer than usual tonight." he muttered to himself as he shut off the ignition. As he stepped out of his sedan, Edamura's hands fumbled; rummaging for the keys in his carry-on to no avail, as if enchanted by some blond bastard and his eldritch powers of convenient inconvenience.

At last, after a minute or two of ~~eldritch~~ divine interference on part of his carry-on bag, that damned keychain finally chose to show its shiny face to the open air. Edamura inspected the keys with a slight glare in his eye, discerning the scratched side with the untarnished and then holding the thing up to the light as if to discourage whichever interloper of the supernatural was responsible.

With an exasperated sigh, the young man dissipated his frustration and marched toward the elevator. After a brief chat with apartment reception and the passing of another two floors, the young man finally arrived at the entrance of his humble abode.

Eager for the touch and scent of his freshly-laundered bedsheets, Edamura unceremoniously inserted one of the keys into the door.

_Click._

Edamura grew to enjoy that sound. It was the sound of coming home, after all.

The apartment itself was nothing spectacular, just a bedroom, closet, bathroom, living space, and adjacent kitchenette. It was nothing to write home about, yet it was clean, fully-insulated, and offered all the necessary amenities of modern life. Besides, the 70" plasma screen TV, washing machine, and dryer came free with the room package.

With the turn of a knob, the reddish cherry-wood door opened inward to reveal the cozy, earthy tones of the interior. As he stepped in through the doorframe, the Japanese man's brow wrinkled as his face was met with the orange-y glares of motionless, miniature stars.

_The lights were on._

Did he leave them on this morning? Whenever he did, it was usually the bathroom or kitchenette, not the living room. Yet, the neatly-screwed pair of bulbs shone radiantly in defiance.

Edamura gingerly closed the door behind him and took off his shoes in accordance with the customs of the Japanese household. Paying the lights no mind, Edamura began to unbutton his shirt as he walked towards the shower to freshen up.

Perhaps he would skip checking the news today. Unlike most days, Edamura was in the mood for a bit more distraction. After yet another day of dumping the contents of his mailbox into the basement incinerator, he deserved it. The blond bastard didn't know when to stop. He planned to exorcise his mind of any reminder of that foolish Frenchman; at least for that night.

 _Detective John seems like a good read_ , he pondered as he scrubbed his hair and back of any vestige of shampoo left. After a quick rinse, the young man carefully stepped out of the shower.

As nude as he was born, Edamura began to towel himself of any remaining moisture. Taking extra care with both the sensitive and hard-to-reach regions of his body, the young man gave his empty bedroom a true show of his boyish physique. Slim arms, calloused hands, a flat stomach, toned legs, and an innocent countenance; no part of Edamura's body was spared from the towel. It was no mystery as to why those ladies kept showing up for coffee.

_Creak._

The ex-con froze. As he readjusted his focus, it sounded again.

 _Creak._

Poking his head through the opening of the doorframe, the young man's brown orbs scanned the bedroom for the source of the noise. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Clad only with a towel on his backside, Edamura tiptoed into the bedroom. He bit his lower lip in anxious reflex as he gave every wall and corner a suspicious glance. Still, nothing.

_Creak._

Edamura whirled around. The noise had come from the wardrobe on his left bedside.

In a spur of the moment, the young man leaped across his newly-laundered bedsheets. After an ungraceful landing on the other side, Edamura grabbed the handles of the wardrobe door and pried them open. Subtlety be damned; he may or may not be an idiotic fool for doing so, but at least he was going to show the world that Edamura Makoto wasn't going to go down as some candy-ass coward.

"Yo."

_Thump._


	2. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BGM: https://youtu.be/tA-SRg_1J7s

Edamura Makoto did not usually experience strange dreams. Most of the time, he didn't even remember them. To him, sleep was like skipping forwards in time; there were no weird thoughts or memories floating around in his head in the mornings. His sleep was smooth and undisturbed from start to finish.

Today was not one of those days.

The details of this journey would be likened to a fever dream by some.

By others, madness.

Unlike the forgettable bliss of dreams past, this journey had everything: coffee strains, butterflies, gothic spires, singed curtains, tanned beauties, an enraged audience, and old man Kudo on a flying horse, amongst other sordid bits.

PLACEHOLDER TEXT


	3. The Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xc_yKk0k5XE
> 
> This is likely the most boring chapter of this fanfic. Please enjoy.

Contrary to popular belief, Edamura Makoto was not a complete pretender. In the past, he was an honest boy who made his parents proud. In the past, he would help his father brew coffee for the family on those frigid winter nights. In the past, he was a loving son who would stay by his mother's bedside to the last of her days. 

In the past, he was also an avid learner. Being Japanese, club life permeated Edamura's high school experience; it was mandatory to join one, after all. And that fateful day of enrollment, the day when he decided on a spot in the Orchestra, the day when he begged his parents for violin lessons, had left him with a priceless gift that would remain with him until the coming of eternity.

"Uncle Kudo, I want to start now!" The older man scratched his chin as he gave another exasperated sigh. "I told you before Makoto. If you want to learn anything, you need to start with the basics first." The younger one blinked, tilting his head in an expression of juvenile curiosity. It was as if Kudo was speaking to the child in a foreign dialect.

"Think of it like this, kid: when you build a house, you need a foundation. If you don't have one, it'll keep falling apart and you'll get stuck every time you try. You need to understand the simple stuff before trying out an idea of your own."

Kudo paused, before gesturing to the sheet music on his desk. Edamura leaned forward, his eyes scanning the paper for the piece's title. "Lar-go" he slowly pronounced. Kudo nodded before continuing. "See how the notes are all over the place? It looks scary, but all of them follow a pattern. Remember kid, someone back then had to write this. He had to start simple before adding all the extra bits." Edamura's brow wrinkled in confusion. "So I need to figure out how he wrote it?"

Kudo shook his head and gave the puzzled boy a smile. "Of course not, kid. You just need to understand the basics. Once you figure that out, the rest becomes easy."

The task of mastering this instrument was by no means a cakewalk. The position of the wrist, the angle of the bow, the pressure, the length of the bowstroke; it was maddening at the start, at least for Edamura. Meanwhile, the old man made it look as easy as breathing whenever he played. "Patience, Makoto." He would always say. "You can't become a virtuoso overnight. It takes time to get good, and I'm not just talking about violin-playing. Give yourself time to take it in and understand it all."

As his first year of high school began, Edamura found himself outmatched during the auditions. With only a year of experience under his belt, he was readily outshined by many of his peers. It was only foresight that kept him from sinking into jealousy and self-loathing.

There was no 'trick' to it. No favouritism. No secret handshakes. No bribery of the faculty with donuts or coffee cakes. It was obvious that much of the competition were simply more experienced. Most of his repertoire so far consisted of practice books and generic solo pieces that a well-trained child of five could handle without difficulty. Meanwhile, he was up against the likes of Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Rachmaninov, and other such impressive names in the world of acoustic performance.

His chances of snagging a seat on the Orchestra only increased the more experienced he became. And even still, Edamura sought alternatives for expressing his talents, from wedding venues to nursery homes. At one point Edamura even began to improvise songs of his own.

It was only his tenacity and zeal that kept Edamura going. And one day, the old man's philosophical ramblings began to click.

"Kudo" the teenager called out. "I think I understand now. I just realized: every time I learned something new, I also had to learn a new set of basics to go along with it." The old man froze, before setting his own violin down onto the table, readjusting himself as to hear what his student had to say. "Like you told me, everything has a foundation; everything has a root." His instructor's eyes bore through him as if to appraise the content of his words.

After a brief moment of awkward silence, the older man moved, standing up from his chair and placing a hand on Edamura's shoulder in affirmation.

The height difference between Edamura and his instructor made the act almost comical. No longer a child, Edamura stood a head higher than the older man; the boy had grown much, in both body and mind. Still, the teen slowly nodded his head in respect to his newfound enlightenment. "It wasn't just a music lesson, was it?"

"Everything." Kudo repeated. "Everything has a foundation. Know the basics-" 

"And the rest becomes easier."


	4. Maestro's Gambit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tM-2CA47L_A

PLACEHOLDER TEXT


	5. The Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5lehbl7v4Q

PLACEHOLDER TEXT


	6. Plucked Heartstrings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CP9RoYfU1hM

PLACEHOLDER TEXT


	7. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDLTl2ls0tM

PLACEHOLDER TEXT


	8. When In Vienna

PLACEHOLDER TEXT


End file.
